


the best day of my life

by yumeniai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, i think it's angst anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9271301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumeniai/pseuds/yumeniai
Summary: There were days when Yuuri just felt like everything was against him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm listening/singing to old Dido songs when I should be studying. Or grocery shopping. Or just not procrastinating.

There were days when Yuuri just felt like everything was against him.

He woke up alone, cold from the cracked open window in the late autumn air. His bruises from yesterday still ached, his feet still felt like lumps of raw meat, and the thought of another day on the rink, skating as hard as he could to try and keep up with the Russian skaters made him groan.

Neither Victor or Makkachin were in the apartment when Yuuri finally mustered himself up. There was a pot of tea on the counter, steam long dissipated. Yuuri poured himself a cup anyway and winced at the bitterness. He briefly considered microwaving it. The sink won instead.

Yuuri watched blankly as the red swirled and disappeared. He thought of Yurio’s costume last season, so much more vibrant, a live flame. The program he couldn’t beat, even after giving the ice every ounce of himself and his heart. Even when his anxiety quieted enough to let him skate a flawless routine.

The fridge still had some fruit. Yuuri picked an apple, washed it carefully. It felt like flour in his mouth and he thought longingly of his mother’s carefully cooked breakfasts, her steaming miso, her sparkling rice.

He forced himself to finish the apple, then a grapefruit. He considered making something more substantial but his stomach rebelled at the thought.

The rink was empty but for Yakov in the stands when Yuuri arrived. Not surprising, Yuuri supposed, considering the sun, hidden as it was behind sheets of rain, should have just peeked over the horizon.

Yakov grunted at Yuuri’s murmured greeting, and Yuuri quickly stowed away his sports bag.

He entered the rink without warming up first. He can’t be bothered, not now.

Yakov made a vague sound of protest but Yuuri ignored him. Technically Yakov isn’t his coach, and so has no stake in Yuuri’s routine, whatever they may be.

He skated compulsory figures for a while, and Yakov made no further protest. Yuuri figured that was as good as tacit permission.

He tried out his jumps, starting out from the doubles, in order from easiest to hardest. Then the triples.

He got to the quads and fell.

He got up. Fell again.

He gritted his teeth. Kept with the quad toe loop until he landed it. Then the salchow.

He tried the Lutz but it wasn’t really a jump he had mastered. He tried to not focus on it too much and moved instead onto the flip. Hesitated.

He still couldn’t land it consistently. Frankly, no coach other than Victor would have let him include it in his program, but Victor was just as insane as Yuuri.

He knew the jump was wrong the moment he took off, even as he tried to fit in all the rotations. Once, twice, thrice.

He fell before the fourth. Ugly. Sprawling. Directly on top of a bruise from yesterday.

He didn’t cry out. He heard a shift from the stands, waved a hand. He was fine. He didn’t need Yakov to fuss over him.

He needed to perfect his jumps.

The other skaters arrived before he could try more than a few more flips, and Yuuri reluctantly moved to other things. His step sequence. Spins. Things he’s good at, but needed refinement before the competitive season truly started.

His head started to throb around lunchtime. Yurio was saying something, probably derogatory by the expression on his face, but Yuuri can’t hear him behind his earbuds. He cocked his head, but decided that it wasn’t worth it. Not today.

He bought lunch, stared at the greasy looking sandwich blankly. Took a bite. The unfamiliar flavours made him wince.

He forced half of it down his throat before deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. He was already getting hiccups from the too-dry bread.

The afternoon was just as dismal as the morning and Yuuri called an early evening. He had arrived early, after all.

He ran back to the apartment, as dark as the sky outside. Threw off his dripping clothing and shivered in the shower that took a bit too long to heat up properly. The pipes creaked suspiciously. Yuuri finished as quickly as possible.

Despite the cranked-up heaters, the living room was still frigid when Yuuri emerged from the bathroom. He considered blow-drying his hair. Decided against it, even as the dripping ends brushed his shoulders.

He collapsed onto the sofa, curled up as small as possible, shivered. Blearily he thought of the throw blanket on the chair. He groped around for it, heard several thumps as he pulled it towards himself. Right. There had been books on it.

He hid under the blanket.

* * *

He woke to excited barking and a warm body knocking the air out of him.

His eyes stung at the bright light and he quickly squeezed them shut. Only cracked open one at an equally excited voice. “Yuuri!”

There was a second body on him, sandwiching Makkachin between the two of them, and arms around his ribs.

He was sweltering under the blanket.

He smiled.

“Hi, Victor.”

“Urgh, I had the worst day! The sponsors are always so boring, I hate talking to them … I thought Makkachin would at least make them bearable, but even she couldn’t make them more interesting. It was the worst! You have to come with me next time, okay? And you can rescue me whenever they drone on a bit too long!”

Yuuri chuckled. “I don’t think that’s appropriate,” he said drily.

“But I come along to your sponsor meetings!”

“As my coach, not my husband.”

“But Yuuri!”

Yuuri’s hands reached around, wriggling free of the blankets and Victor’s tight embrace. One dug into Makkachin’s fur, and the dog huffed in appreciation. The other went to Victor’s hair, and he scratched gently. Victor melted, and the expressions of bliss on owner and pet’s faces were so similar Yuuri had to stifle a snigger.

Victor pouted. “No fair!” he growled, and attacked Yuuri’s sides.

Yuuri’s howls dislodged Makkachin, who bounded away, offended, but then watched on as the two tussled, barking excitedly.

Eventually, Victor settled against Yuuri, half on top with the limited space. “We should get dinner,” he mumbled, yawned. “Order out. We can take a break from our diet, just for today.”

“No we can’t,” Yuuri mumbled back. “You’ve already spent the day gorging yourself on junk food, haven’t you. Salad tonight.”

“Yuuri! Unfair! No!”

Yuuri chuckled into Victor’s hair. Victor was already on the phone, probably to some fast food place near them. Yuuri heard ‘salad’ and smirked.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, still buried in Victor’s hair.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

 

_I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life  
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life_


End file.
